Within the heart of a rural city, David was cautiously making his way home. He was loaded down with many duffels that made it hard for him to take proper steps. His mind sang out in fear as he saw shadowy figures out of the corner of his eye, but he also knew he was being paranoid.

  To begin with, his pace was slow, but he also moved with caution. This created an even slower pace. Before he rounded corners he peaked past them. He softened his heavy steps while listening to any noise that echoed of the brick house neighborhood he was traversing.

  " Why are there no animal sounds," David whispered to himself. This struck him as incredibly odd. His subconscious dove deeper into the ramifications of the idea. Ever since the green ball landed he hadn't heard a single cry from an animal. Neither any stray cat nor runaway dog but what concerned him even more was the lack of any rodents. Animals were known to have a sense that alerted them to natural disasters, so they fled quickly when they arrived. But for all rodents to have disappeared, they must have left long ago.

  He considered while keeping vigilance of his current surroundings. Some might have considered it a dump, but David knew it as just another place. Behind some of the rundown brick houses, he could see trash piled up. Some even had it on their front lawn. There was also the consistent smell of sewage that seemed to suffuse the area. All these problems together usually meant that even a passing car saw the occasional rat scurrying about in broad day light.

  While David kept scanning his surroundings his eyes kept darting back to the stormwater drains. One in particular that was further up ahead. He was unable to articulate why his subconscious focused on this particular one, but there had to be something about it that drew his attention.

  With every step he took towards the drain, his heartbeat increased. At the halfway point he noticed some rotten food items close to it. This managed to raise the hairs on his body. His path would lead him right over the drain, but the nagging feeling told him getting home just a couple of minutes quicker wouldn't be worth it. He stopped in his tracks and backtracked to begin the treck to another street.

  He kept eying the drain as he moved further away. His heartbeat lessened and the hair on his body returned to normal. ' If it ain't feel right, it ain't feel right' David remembered once more one of his Granpas ravings.

  Just as he left the street another feeling of wrongness assaulted him. This time not of his own body, but from the outside that assaulted something ancient in his brain. His body tensed as he froze in place. His eyes frantically darted across. Once again his eyes locked on the drain, and there he saw it. A mass of numerous red-glowing orbs of menace were trained on him. He even saw two big dog-sized bundles of dark gray drag the food scraps into the drain.

  David took off with incredible speed once again. His heart heaved and his mind created a darker and darker picture of what was happening in the world. He shook his head to dispel the mad ravings of his fantasy story-driven mind. 10 minutes later he was confident enough to stop his mad dash to safety.

  The initial fear had left him, but his body's physical reserves had as well. He oriented himself relying on his memory to paint a clear picture of the way to his apartment. He hadn't steered terribly of course, but the mad dash invoked by primal fear had left him in the rougher part of town.

  Dilapidated buildings left in a state of disrepair, all but for nature to reclaim was all his eyes could see. Some of these houses were still in use by squatters, or even still rented out by greedy Landlords hell-bent on squeezing every penny out of families in dire straits.

  While he wasn't particularly afraid of the people just trying to get by in this place, what worried him were the other sort that resided here. A different breed of exploiters of greed. Drug dealers and gangs. This was a known hot spot of shady activity in regards to drugs, but between facing the unknown of whatever huge pests lived on the other street or facing down some dealers; David's mind was clear.

  His eyes scanned the surroundings. He kept vigilance of all the open and cracked windows. A flash of something dark caught his eye as he zeroed in on it. Hidden behind a crumbled wall was a shaggy-looking person with mismatched attire. Dark boots, some worn-out black jeans, and a big dark brown bomber jacket. His Hair was unkempt and long, in a greasy sort of way. David even saw the person scratching his neck furiously. The colors didn't indicate a gang member, but it seemed to be the other sort of trouble he could encounter here. A junky.

  David wasn't concerned about begging or being harassed for drugs. Those were mild inconveniences in modern life, but the other side of that particular coin left him clamming up once again. The I would do anything for another hit kind. Theft, burglaries, and in extreme cases, even murder were on the table for this sort. Not to mention what these people could do when they were still only half lucid.

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  David knew with the increased load he couldn't outrun even a child, not to mention even an adult. But he also knew that other dangers lurked around. He made up his mind and put on the confident mask he had been wearing way too frequently today.

  He was truly out of his depth on numerous occasions. David even acknowledged this in his mind. Not to mention even the moral war that still plagued his mind about his work place. With a measured pace he strode through the street, not even sparing a glance at the figure he saw before. He ignored the presence completely to act more confident while inside all he felt was horror.

  Uneventfully he passed the street. No one barged out of their houses, no one trained a gun on him, and no one tried to talk to him. This was great news for David and his body untensed. He had gotten lucky so far, but luck always has to end.

  With his measured pace he kept on walking, he passed one street and then another. Occasionally he saw a mop of hair out of windows or checking around corners. Oddly David felt at ease with those, he felt as if those glances that were sent his way were scared and curious.

  He began to see more and more people, which relieved him in different ways, but he kept to his task. Get home, and then test things. Anxiety was an undercurrent in his mindscape, and his hand had started itching long ago. What that meant, David was unable to check. The feeling of wrongness still assaulted his body from within, but it had muted ever since the first discovery.

  As he approached his apartment steadily, the number of houses decreased. He saw more and more trees as if vegetation started to combat the man-made structures that encroached on it's territory. But with fewer houses came fewer people. It had been some time since he felt watched for the last time.

  But the insidious feeling crept back onto him. This was a more familiar feeling than he liked. David felt a sense of deja vu like he had experienced this particular weight just some time ago. His mind instantly relayed information, even without full awareness David thought back to the dark clothed man.

  With a measured pace his eyes swept from left to right. He could feel someone close to him. Maybe behind a tree, hidden behind the bend of a house, or even huddled in the under brush. But as he dove deeper into the feeling David became more certain that it was the dark-clothed person.

  David knew it would be hard to place his finger exactly on why his mind made it clear it was that same person he had met, but there was no room for doubt. Someone had followed him for quite some time or even took a shortcut with nefarious intent. There was no question about what that person intended, it had to be insidious.

  Our overloaded friend dropped all the duffels from his shoulders, and even the backpack as he assumed his confident mask again.

  " Come out," came out the commanding tone of David's he hadn't had to rely on for a long time. " We both know you're there. What do you want." The tone set forth left no room for interpretation.

  Maybe it was a primal instinct or a learned behavior, but David stood straight, puffed out his chest, and balled his fists. Initially, no one appeared so David clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes. The feeling was straight ahead, and he listened to it. With a confident measured gait he strode towards a series if bushes. And just as he was about to part them with his hands David heard a click.

  This was no normal click by any means. David knew this sound by heart. From an early age as a teen, he had been instructed on cleaning guns. It had also been drilled into him to check after cleaning if the firing mechanism worked. Without the safety on and no bullets, a simple press of the firing mechanism was all that was needed. This was that sound. The distinct tinkling of metal on metal.

  Now two choices lay before him. Were guns now obsolete or was there human error? David had no time to ruminate those thoughts right now as he retracted his arms from the bushes and instead pulled his leg back.

  With an explosion of his coiled-up leg muscles, he swept the thick underbrush. The first kick was a miss, and the second as well. Being only hip high the bushes gave a good hiding spot, but also made running away difficult. David banked on this as he kept kicking random spots.

  With the fifth or sixth, he had lost count at this point, his foot met resistance. A muffled grunt sounded from beneath his feet, as the dark-clothed guy tumbled out the opposite side.

  David already strode toward the other, as he formed a tight ball of anger with his hands. A brief flicker of his mind reminded him of a potential new natural weapon in his arsenal. His changed nails, but before any tests he rather rely on the old and trusted fist.

  The dark-clothed person took off running. This didn't surprise David in the least. He knew and used to assort with the kind. Granted being fired upon sat with him wrong, but he let it go. David rummaged through the bushes and found the gun. While the gun had the serial number filled down, the symbol of its make was still there. A Sig & Sauer 9mm. From the length and heft of it David decided it was most likely a p-225 model. David put the safety on, pulled the mag out, and unchambered the gun. He returned to his duffels and stashed it inside of one.

  This gun gave David some bad news. Firstly it was a pricey gun. Even used they ran for quite a higher price than low-level gang guns. It was a reliable one for sure, but it had its problems as well. But the filed-down serial number was the bigger problem. This smelled of organized crime, and the low-level gangs around his city had never breached into that territory. ' A thought for another day' he mused.

  With his load strapped back onto his shoulders, David resumed his march. The occasional drifter or homeless person was all he encountered the rest of the way to his home.

  He unlocked the door to the run-down apartment he rented, and shut it behind him. He put the chain on and even used the secondary deadbolt he installed himself last year. David sighed in relief as he dropped the heavy load on his shoulder.

  " Home sweet home," he said to no one other than himself as his mind started to race.